


Admiration

by Stylin_Breeze



Series: Planes, Trains and Automobiles [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: First Meetings, Friendship, Gen, Online Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-20 12:22:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16555682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stylin_Breeze/pseuds/Stylin_Breeze
Summary: Bonding over chat, an opportunity arrives for "Saku" to meet fellow user "Mt. Shiba" IRL.





	Admiration

**Author's Note:**

> I had the first half of this written about a week ago and then hastily finished it today for Day 4 of Libero Week (November 7, 2018), for the prompt "Games." Enjoy some first-year libero friendship.

Kousuke Sakunami peered at the scenery rolling by on the Bullet Train that summer, almost too fast to comprehend. Teenagers traveling alone didn't seem to be that uncommon, and so he found himself left to his devices by the various passersby. His phone didn't have signal in this particular stretch, so he was cut off momentarily. He preferred it that way. He was almost too nervous to check the chat logs. He didn't want to think about what he was doing.

Several months ago, he was in a chatroom for a game, and he enjoyed it immensely. One day, he mentioned he had to go to volleyball practice. Another user, Mt. Shiba, DMed him and said he played volleyball too. They talked about their clubs in DM a lot after that. They were both first-years, both liberos, both around somewhat the same height. Both were really proud of their teams. Shiba shyly admitted that his team had been to nationals before (though not with him on it), and Sakunami said his team was the best at defense in the prefecture. When the thought crossed Shiba’s mind that possibly they’d met each other, Sakunami stated he was in Miyagi. Evidently disappointed, Shiba revealed he lived in Tokyo.

They began to talk about their players. There were no older liberos on Sakunami’s team. Shiba was awed by that. His team had a third-year libero of great skill, so Shiba wasn’t a regular. Kousuke could barely remember the last time he wasn’t a regular—having not been a benchwarmer since his first year of middle school. Shiba was nervous about when his senior would leave the team. Kousuke told Shiba not to worry. Use the time to learn what he can now and be grateful.

Heavens knew Sakunami wished he could be in this guy’s shoes.

Before they knew it, the two DMed more than they were on the main chat and eventually more than they played the videogame that brought them together in the first place. They talked not just about volleyball but everything else going on.

It was almost like they were best friends.

The next thing happened so suddenly. Shiba mentioned summer break and having nothing to do. Sakunami was hoping to take some vacation time away from his team. There was a pause. Shiba was typing but deleted the message and then wrote, “that’s cool.” Kousuke, with an irrational anxiety that he couldn’t explain, replied back:

“I was thinking of coming to Tokyo”

It was a half-truth. He wanted to go somewhere exciting he’d never been before. But it was all just fantasizing; he had no concrete plans to go anywhere specific. In truth, he had come to bond with this person online so much he kind of wanted to meet them in real life.

Shiba’s reply was enigmatic, and not very clear, and Sakunami found himself reading into it a little: someone who wanted to believe that Sakunami was _trying_ to hint about visiting him but who was too afraid of misinterpreting Kousuke’s intentions to actually acknowledge. Sakunami made his thoughts a bit clearer in his next message, although all he merely did was use Shiba’s statement to coyly propose the idea of them, possibly, meeting up— _if_ that’s what Shiba wanted.

Shiba came back:

“I’d like that”

* * *

Yuuki. Yuuki was his name, the user known as Mt. Shiba revealed. Sakunami revealed his given name too. Even despite the inanity of it, the thought crossed Kousuke’s mind he was meeting up with a serial killer or a kidnapper. He was so afraid of what his parents would think he didn’t give them the details. They just knew he was taking a solo trip to the capital.

Kousuke rested his elbow on the windowsill, hand in a fist supporting his chin. Outside he noticed there were more buildings than in Miyagi. The place just became denser as the number of farms decreased. Apartment blocks fed into skyscrapers. Tokyo was more massive than he expected, and he feared he’d never find his host in the midst of all this urban sprawl if they hadn’t arranged to meet at the train station. He didn’t know how they’d recognize each other. They didn’t send each other photos, merely because the thought never crossed their minds, and Kousuke felt a little bit more comfortable _not knowing_ what his online friend looked like before they met face-to-face.

 

At last Sakunami deboarded amidst a crushing stream of commuters in the central train station in Tokyo. He lugged his suitcase off the train and exhaled on the platform. It was warmer than he expected amidst the crowd of people, frightening in the density of travelers going to and fro with itinerant and certain purpose. The first-year teen looked like a fish out of water, standing dopily, almost agitated in this foreign land. For the first time since leaving Sendai Station, he pulled out his phone and shot a DM to his cohort, saying he was here.

Why had he come again? Was this even a good idea?

“Kousuke?” a voice said to his left.

* * *

Yuuki Shibayama watched the Bullet Train from Sendai evacuate its human cargo like a floodgate, trying unsuccessfully in the mess to get eyes on every person exiting the cars. He wished he had a photo of Kousuke but was too nervous to ask for one, fearing somehow it’d be violating the user Saku’s privacy. He didn’t _really_ think Saku—or Kousuke—would be so offended at the request that he’d call off their meeting, but he didn’t want to take the risk regardless.

As the sea of people began to filter a little bit more—now mostly passengers walking past the train, not exiting it—one figure stood out.

A boy about Shibayama’s age with black hair and just a couple centimeters taller than him looked mightily unsure of himself standing on the platform, a roller suitcase beside him. He wore a jacket not too seasonal for summer in Tokyo and looked like he was sweating. Shibayama hoped that Kousuke—whoever he was—would find Yuuki first, so he wouldn’t humiliate himself mistakenly approaching a total stranger. As he thought he should approach, his knees began to quiver. Why was he so nervous? He was just meeting another volleyball player. What was he so afraid of?

The other boy pulled out his phone as if getting ready to type. Yuuki’s phone buzzed a second later. He turned his back to the loiterer and discreetly checked his messages, in case it was a coincidence and the person thought it weird that someone else looked at their phone right after that person sent a message.

“I’m here” is all it said.

Shibayama spun around and stepped forward, careful to keep himself just out of the boy’s peripherals so he could make a stealthy escape if necessary. The other boy scanned the crowd straight ahead, apparently expecting whomever he was meeting to be farther away from the platform.

“Kousuke?” he asked once he felt he was close enough.

The boy responded to the name. Yuuki suddenly realized he was shorter than he’d imagined.

“Yuuki?” the other boy said. Finally a weight was lifted off Shibayama’s shoulders.

“Um, hey,” he answered with a forced grin, too uptight to do anything but force it.

But Sakunami gave him a confident beam.

“It’s good to finally meet you.” His words were pleasant, which stunned Yuuki for reasons he wasn’t sure.

“Oh, um, yes! Likewise,” he piped, his own grin now feeling more natural. Kousuke jolted and started fishing in different pockets on his jacket.

“Oh! I, uh, I brought something for you.”

Shibayama began to object with a stammer, futilely as Sakunami handed out a small trinket in his palm. It was a keychain with a dark red shiba inu ornament on the end.

“You said you always liked dogs, and I figured that was where your username came from, so I got you a shiba inu.”

Yuuki went bright red. It was true he loved dogs; in fact, shibas were his favorite breed! But his username, Mt. Shiba, was an Anglicization of his surname Shibayama, and that Kousuke had drawn an incorrect conclusion was hugely embarrassing to him. But he didn’t care about correcting Sakunami’s misconception right now. He didn’t know how to say it anyway without making his friend feel awkward. Besides, as he studied the plastic dog’s red coat with white patches that resembled his uniform, he was more than touched.

“Thanks,” he squeaked quietly.

“I got it at our school festival,” Kousuke said before rubbing the back of his head. “I, uh, kind of thought of you when I saw it to be honest.”

Yuuki was shaking but suddenly remembered what was in his own pocket. His heart pounded like it’d escape his chest as he pulled out the bright red tissue paper that wrapped an oval object. At first debating whether to unwrap the item himself, he eventually just stretched his hand robotically.

“This, uh, is for you.”

Kousuke jolted. He carefully unwrapped the object, and his face lit up.

“You said you liked turtles…” It was a carved wooden paperweight in the shape of a turtle, with a painted evergreen shell. “I know it’s really silly, and, um, thank you for getting me this too!” Yuuki rambled in a panic as Kousuke examined the figurine from all angles in silence, his mouth slightly agape. Shibayama’s face sank, fearing Sakunami hated it. “I’m dumb. I should have waited until you were leaving to give you that. Now it’s awkward.”

“No!” Sakunami cheerfully piped. “I love it! Green’s our team color!”

Yuuki was more shocked than he should have been. “R-really?!”

“Yeah!” Sakunami nodded spryly.

“That makes me happy,” Yuuki chuckled, the least nervous he’d been since getting to the station.

“What’s yours? I don’t know what your team’s called. Mine is Datekou.”

“Oh, um, Nekoma,” Yuuki whispered.

“Nekoma?!” Sakunami exclaimed. “They’re a good team! No wonder you’re main libero’s so awesome!”

That degree of praise from Kousuke was beyond unexpected. Yuuki always admired Sakunami for being the sole libero on his squad and being a regular too, even though he was only a first year. He was even tasked by his coach to help their first-year setter, and Shibayama didn’t know how his friend pulled it off.

“For you to be on the roster,” Sakunami continued, “must mean you’re pretty good too.”

That compliment—wholly undeserved Yuuki thought—decimated Shibayama’s defenses. His face was as red as his team uniform, and he wished he could dive under a rock.

“No, I’m really not. You’re the one who has to put up with all that stress, being the only libero.”

“Yeah, and it sucks, like I’ve said! I would _kill_ to be in your shoes,” Kousuke exasperatedly exclaimed.

Yuuki was highly flattered, but he didn’t think Kousuke meant it. They weren’t possibly on the same level. There’s no way Sakunami could admire him.

“No,” he calmly objected, “I’m just lucky I can hide behind my senpai.”

That statement got a look from Kousuke who very much didn’t like the undertone. The two had talked plenty of times online about their unique club challenges, and Shibayama mentioned how inferior he felt to his senior all the time and how he was kind of glad to be on the bench. But Kousuke also knew from their talks that he trained hard and that his senpai was very invested in getting him ready to take the team’s libero position when he moved on.

Yuuki half-expected Kousuke to berate him, now that he could see in person how weak and feeble he really was. He was ashamed to be in the presence of someone so awesome, so capable, so competent, so much more so than himself even if they were the same grade. But those were not the next words out of Sakunami’s mouth:

“Listen. Take the time to learn from him,” Kousuke said. “And someday, sooner than you think I bet, you’ll get the chance to go out there and shine. And then your senpai can be proud of you. Make sure that when the time comes, you can show him what you’ve got.”

Shibayama shivered and shrank back. He thought it was the biggest compliment he’d ever received. And coming from someone he admired like Kousuke, it was the highest praise.

“Uh, thank you!” he barked and bowed firmly. “I will do my best!”

Sakunami beamed. He could always tell that, behind all his self-deprecating talk, Yuuki was a boy who had the potential to excel if he just boosted his own confidence. He had more resources than Kousuke could dream of having in order to help him excel.

It was what Kousuke admired about him.

Then he felt a weakness in his stomach.

“So, um, what’s a good place to eat around here? I’m kind of famished.” Sakunami had eaten through his snack bag on the way over and was looking forward to a proper meal.

“Oh! I, uh, don’t really know. I don’t hang out in this part of the city much,” Yuuki guiltily admitted.

“Hey. Don’t worry. Let’s just grab some fast food, and then head over to your place. K?”

His smile was genuine and inviting, always how Yuuki envisioned it.

He found he liked “Saku” even more in person than online.

“Mhm!” Yuuki nodded brightly. Kousuke could see Yuuki was just as shy in real life, if not more so, than he was online. It was almost amazing that he didn’t realize how lucky he was. He even had a team that would let him miss practice for a day to hang out with some stranger from out of town. Sakunami’s newly appointed captain, Futakuchi, would never be that forgiving.

In such a supportive environment, Yuuki would thrive in no time.

“You know, I really hope I get to meet your team,” Kousuke said as they started from the platform.

“What?! Really?! Y-you want to?”

“Sure! Do you think you can introduce me?”

Yuuki smiled in a way Sakunami always envisioned him doing so. The next three words came off exactly as Kousuke imagined them sounding on the chat a few weeks ago:

“I’d like that.”


End file.
